Before the Games
by CierraAguilera
Summary: This story is one of Katniss's struggle to keep her family alive before the games and how she meets Gale Hawthorn and Peeta Mellark. Still dealing with the loss of her father, Katniss has a difficult time with the emotional aspects of supporting a family.
1. Chapter 1

Hunger. That was all I thought of as I dragged my legs across the cold cobble stones in our town square. My eyes darted back and forth as I searched for any signs of food in the streets. Distress and exhaustion were capturing my mind in a lock even I couldn't break free of. I needed to feed my mother. Prim. We had no food this morning and I could only imagine my little sister's face twisted into a look of pain as her body longed for sustenance.

A shine in the corner of my eye caught my attention in the drizzling rain. I ran over to it and a smile spread across my face. A trash can was looking back at me, the water glimmering on the top of its lid. I took off the lid to begin my ravenous search, when I heard a slight jingle of a bell. My head jerked up and I saw Mrs. Mellark, the baker's wife, come storming out the front door of the shop. Her boots splashed in the rain as she came over to scold the hungry child looking for a meal.

"Shoo!" she yelled, "Get out of our bins, young lady! Don't you have any manners?"

I looked at my feet in embarrassment and she let out a grunt and shuffled back into the warm, dry bakery. The smells worked their way over to my nose and I inhaled deeply. The longing for food overcame me and I sunk to my knees and laid my now soaked head on the muddy stones in despair.

_ This is it. This is where Katniss Everdeen starves to death and leaves her family with no hope of living through the next winter, _I thought. The sound of a hard slap interrupted my ever descending thoughts and brought me back to my sad reality. I ignored the noises coming from the bakery until I heard that little chime signaling the doors opening once again. A boy, who I recognized from school, came out and handed me a burnt loaf of bread. I looked up into his blue eyes opening my mouth to say thank you when I saw a red streak running across his face. That was the slap I had heard. He had burnt the bread to give it to me. But why? He left me lost in bewilderment and returned to the bakery. As he left I heard his mother ask, "You gave it to the pigs right, Peeta?"

He responded, "Yes, Mother." and went back to baking the bread after the door swung shut and I couldn't hear them talking anymore. I watched him work until the hot bread started to scorch my fingers. Quickly shoving the bread beneath my shirt, for fear of it becoming cold, I ran home to feed my family's waiting faces.

When I got there I broke apart the bread and watched the steam pour out of it. I found raisins buried inside the bread's crevices like pieces of treasure. When we ate them the extra sweetness was something special to us all and made that night an occasion not to be forgotten. But while I ate the freshly baked bread, I couldn't stop thinking about the boy who had taken a beating just to feed me. As I tucked in Prim I thought of him, when I sat in bed I thought of him, and when I dreamt, it was of the boy who gave me bread.

xxx

The next day I walked into school and saw my new savior doing his work at a table adjacent to mine. I felt the urge to get up and say thank you, but for some reason, I didn't know how. I had done simple things like, thanking my mother for getting something for me and thanking Prim for finding an item I had lost, but never had I felt that I owed a single person so much. Lying in the rain, I was so close to losing myself and not only my life, but my sister and mother's too. I had absolutely no idea how to express that to him without breaking down and crying, something I regularly did these days.

I caught him sneaking looks at me across the classroom and he saw me doing it too. When the bell rang and ended the school day I walked up behind him to attempt to express my gratitude toward him. I lost the power I had building up all day when he turned around. I turned so he wouldn't see me and walked across the schoolyard, my cheeks flushing red as I went. I stopped when I saw a white puff sticking up in the soft grass. I bent down to get a better look at it. Its gentle strings of white sprung out from the center and blew in the wind. It was so independent, strong, and beautiful. Filling me with hope, the dandelion represented my newfound strength to survive. I picked it and a grin spread across my face. The walk home was spent with me twirling my determination in my hands, heading toward a new day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: This is my first story for Fan Fiction so I don't know how well I write, so let me know! Thanks (: -Cierra Aguilera **

The sound of an agitated hiss comes from behind me and drags me into a new day. I turn and see Prim's nasty cat looking at me with a look of smugness written on its face obviously due to the fact that it woke me up. Why did mother ever let her keep that cat? It only needs more food and-

"Katniss! We have some bread left over from the other day are you going to eat some?" shouted Prim from our kitchen

"Yes!" I grumbled my voice still thick from sleep.

I shuffled into the dining room and mother put a bowl in front of me filled with the leftover bread I had received from the boy Peeta. I still hadn't figured out why but he seemed to have forgotten the task he did so I tried to as well. The day after I got the bread, I promised myself I would find a way to keep my family alive, even if we barely made it by. We didn't have much money or food because my father died two years before. He was my guardian, my best friend, and a mentor that no one else was. He taught me to have strength, courage, and kindness in all that I do, but one day, he was gone. Swept from the Earth in a simple, effortless motion. His smile still lingers in my mind along with his voice. Raspy and soft and deep joining together to create a harmony of soothing sounds. He sang and sang out at the lake where he taught me to swim until the point came where the mockingjays in the trees would fall silent taking in the sound of his melodious voice. I miss him so much. I still feel the touch of his callous hands in my smooth ones. But that is the past and it's gone now.

I swiftly got up, leaving my memories behind me after I finished my meal and handed my bowl to mother and giving her a kiss on the cheek as I grabbed my coat and said, "I'm going to find some food." I strutted out the door walking toward the edge of our district where an electrocuted fence stood blocking me from running to the woods that I missed so much. I remembered hearing in school about the black market and how they sold game there, but I couldn't figure out where they had gotten it from. I came to the conclusion that it must be beyond the gates and if someone else could do it, then so could I.

Picking up a piece of branch off the gritty floor, I stepped closer the fence glaring at it as if it would be intimidated if I did. I threw the branch at checking if the power was up. Luck was in my favor so I began digging underneath so I could get to the other side. When my passage way was done I wriggled underneath the fence as fast as I could, desperately hoping no one would see and report me. I ran once I got past the fence and didn't stop until I got to a meadow.

The sun was starting to rise above the trees, casting strange arrays of shadows across the meadow's floor. I crouched down to attempt and find berries and flowers my mother had told me were edible. Halfway through my search, I heard a crunch behind me.

"Hello?" the figure whispered.

**P.S. Sorry that it's so short!**


	3. Chapter 3

_To my reviewers: Thank you for your comments! Much appreciated and yes, I do realize I am not strictly following the events that happened in the Hunger Games. (Honestly, I didn't have a copy on hand so I couldn't look it up[:) So I improvised! This chapter was a "Can't go hack to sleep" kind of chapter. I woke up at two and decided heck I haven't written a chapter in a while. I'll do that now. Anyway, Hope you enjoy!_  
_Cierra Aguilera_

I said nothing when his dark eyes combed me over, checking for any sign of weapons or something I could use to hurt him. The boy was clearly from district 12. He had skin that was a warm olive color and his eyes were deep shades of brown that were still looking for an answer from me. Surely by now he had figured out I wasn't going to say or give anything away. I knew what people could do. He appeared to be maybe two or three years older than me and his face looked somewhat familiar, though I couldn't place a name.

"Gale Hawthorne" he said abruptly, "I live two blocks away from the town square on the east side of district 12 and I mean no harm. When my father died I had to find food for my family so I come here."

That explains where I knew his face from. His wasn't one that bore an expression of relief on the day the mines exploded. Neither was mine. I had looked into the crowd watching all the families greeting their fathers and husbands in a tight embrace filled with thankfulness and gratitude. I was still waiting for the man that would never show, when I came across an unhappy face. He didn't have hope written across his like the other children. It was if he already knew. Grief and pain were caught in his eyes when he saw my gaze and returned it. I stared back, captured in his eyes until he turned his head and didn't look at me again. Until now.

My eyes flickered backs toward him and I decided I would speak.

"My name is Katniss" I mumbled, barely audible. A strange look crossed his face.

"Catnip. That's a... nice name." he replied.

I laughed and shook my head, "No. It's Katniss Everdeen" emphasizing the S's at the end of my name. "Spelled with a K."

"Oh." He said running and hand through his thick brown hair, "For a second I really thought your name was Catnip. So what brings you here, Katniss?"

"My father died in the mine accident too. I have been working rather hard to find some food, but it isn't working. I remembered hearing about the black market in school and how they sold game they got it, I couldn't figure out, but I remember my father taught me to hunt when I was very young. I didn't bring a bow and arrow today; frankly I don't know where it is." That was a lie, but he didn't need to know that. "However, I do know some plants that are edible and here they are" I said, gesturing the collection of berries and greens on the forest floor.

"Well Miss Everdeen, I have a proposition for you. We have a common goal, correct? To find food for our family. So why don't we share our strengths and teach other the extent of what we know? What do you say?"

I raised my eyebrows at him and thought about his proposal. Then I told him what I thought of his plan.

xxx

Three hours later, I was walking home with two rabbits in one hand and a bundle of herbs and berries in the other. Dirt was streaked across my face along with a grin. I liked Gale. He was nice, kind, and taught me all there was to know about trapping animals. When I walked in the door I gave Prim a kiss on the head and set my findings in the kitchen for supper.

"Hey, Prim."

"Hi, Katniss. What'd you get today?" she said peering over the edge of the table trying to see what I had brought home.

"Food!" I said. I picked her up and swung her around the room, a smile on my face. When I put her down, I walked down to our bedroom where my mother was looking at her book of medicines. I poked my head in the room and said, "I have some meat and greens for you to cook dinner with, Mother."

She looked up from her book and a gentle smile played on her lips. "Good Job, Sweetheart." she said as she got up from where she was sitting. She rubbed my back as she walked through the door to head to the kitchen.

When she was gone I walked in the room, not sure what to do. I slowly worked my way to the closet and opened the door. In it stood my father's bow, beautifully carved and ready to be used. I wrapped my hand around it, feeling the etches in the wood form a simple pattern beneath my fingers. I closed my eyes, remembering when my father taught me how to use it. My hands were strong and independent around the bow, ready to make a kill. I raised it and put my arrow in, pulling the string back behind my head. Releasing my fingers was all it took and the arrow was whizzing through the air moving toward its target. A muffled cry sounds through the quiet midsummer afternoon, ringing out and echoing in the forest air. So simple. Subconsciously, I knew I would have to use the bow eventually when I went to the woods this morning. Refusing to return to my past made it that much harder to face the truth of what had to be done. I had hoped there was another way to get enough meat for my family, but it was useless. I had to brave the consequences and sorrow it might bring me to support my family. That's what I did, and then I picked up the bow.

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